


Sacrifice

by Lovin_me_some_whump



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Self-Sacrifice, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture, Waterboarding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-26 18:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovin_me_some_whump/pseuds/Lovin_me_some_whump
Summary: Peter sacrifices himself for the rest of the Avengers then gets tortured while it is broadcasted to world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to figure out how I could get Peter to sacrifice himself for the others, and I couldn't figure out how to do it. But I think that I may have it figured out. I hope that this isn't terrible. Also, May is not in this. You can come up with whatever story you want for why she's not here, but either way she is not in this, and Bucky is in Wakanda. Anywho, on to the story!

(Steve's POV)

 

I take another hit from one of the giant robots. All of the other Avengers are either already down or going down. About ten minutes ago the building that Clint was perched on was blown up, and now Clint is lying seemingly unconscious under a pile of rubble. Tony's armor was destroyed leaving him with just one hand repulsar thing. I'm not really into all of the technological stuff. He was knocked, hopefully just unconscious, about five minutes ago. The last time I saw the kid was about three minutes ago. He just suddenly fell from the sky, but I'm not sure why. Sam got knocked out of the sky about the same time that Peter did. There are only a few of the robots left, but it's just me and Natasha who has taken so many hits that it's a miracle she's still standing.

 

I have a nasty gash over my left eye which is making it hard to see and several burns on various places on my body because it turns out that these robots have lighters on their hands that shoot fire. I discovered that by just about having my eyebrows burned off at the beginning of the fight about thirty minutes ago. There were hundreds of these things. It was all hands but Bruce's on deck. I'm thinking maybe we should have brought the green guy with us as I see Natasha collapse from a hard blow to the head. 

 

I manage to take out three more, but there are still five more. I'm taking out the second of the five when I feel a robot claw grab the back of my shirt. I am lifted up into the air and slammed into the ground. Stars explode across my vision as I try to get out of the claw's grasp but am brutally slammed against the ground again. I manage to grab the robot's arm when something hard hits my skull, and everything goes black.

............................................................................................

(Peter's POV)

 

I slowly wake up. The first thing I register is pain everywhere. I press my hand against my side where it hurts the most, and when I pull my hand back it comes away covered in hot, sticky blood. Then everything comes back to me. The fight in Brooklyn, seeing everyone go down around me, and getting shot out of the air mid-swing. 

 

I cautiously open my eyes and am assaulted by the blindingly bright sun shining down on me. I look around, and see that I am lying on a small crater created by my body. There is rubble everywhere.

 

I hear the sound of men talking. "So which one do you think we should take?"

 

"I don't think it really matters they're all famous and they'll all do the job." What are they talking about?

 

"Yeah, I just want to know which one will look the most pathetic while we torture them." Voice A says.

 

Voice B chuckles and says. "Yeah." 

 

No! I can't let any of them get hurt, but I also can't take down these men with their crazy robots. That leaves me with one option. "Take me!" I yell. That immedately gets their attention, and I can for the first time see their faces. Voice A belongs to a tall muscular man with a chiseled jaw and jet black hair, and Voice B belongs to a a slightly shorter, bearded man with glasses who is starting to go bald. They both look like they are in their late thirties to early forties.

 

Chiseled guy smiles maniacally as he walks over to me. "And why should we do that, bug? The others are more well-known." 

 

He's right, but I can't let them get hurt when I can stop it. Then it hits me. I pull off my mask and look straight up at chiseled guy. "Because I'm a kid." He smiles and pulls something out and presses it to my neck. I feel a jolt of burning pain, and everything fizzles out to black.


	2. Charon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating sooner. Anywho, on to the story!

(Tony's POV)

 

I slowly wake up to a throbbing headache. My whole body is sore. Stupid robots. My armor is missing chunks of metal leaving wires and my clothing exposed in various places. I'm glad I wasn't wearing my Star Wars nightshirt when the robots attacked. I would never live it down. 

 

I gingerly push myself into a seated position and look around. The entire street is in ruin. Everything is either covered in rubble, cracked and collapsed, or about to collapse. My team doesn't look much better. Clint is digging himself out of a collapsed building. Natasha is sitting on the ground cleaning her guns. Steve is trying to help Sam get out of his wingsuit which is on fire, and the kid is.... Wait, where is the kid? 

 

I look around again, but I still don't see him. "Friday, where is Peter?"

 

"You have not reinstalled the tracker in Peter's suit so I am unable to track him, but there is no sign of him in the area." She replies in her ever chipper voice. I am going to have to program her to sound like she has emotion. 

 

I push myself to my feet and discover that other than the probable concussion I have it's all just scrapes and bruises. My head is throbbing. I stumble over to Natasha and ask her. "Have you seen Peter?"

 

She looks around then back at me with a slightly worried expression on her face. "The last time I saw him was about twenty minutes ago. He just fell mid-swing, and I never saw him get back up. You should ask Steve he was the only one still standing when I got knocked out, and if he doesn't know then Bruce could probablybably get something off of one of the cameras along the street." 

 

I nod. "Thanks." I say as I walk over to Steve. What if something happened to him? I could never forgive myself. "Steve!" I call as I approach him. He looks up at me. He has managed to help Sam get the wings off his back and extinguish the fire. "Have you seen Peter since the battle?"

 

He pauses and thinks for a second; his expression growing more and more worried. "I haven't. I saw him go down, but he never got back up, and why did the robots leave us alive. They could have just killed all of us. There were still three left when I went down. Why didn't they finish us off?"

 

"Because they wantes to take one of us." Sam slowly says the whole thing still clicking together in our brains. 

 

"He was kidnapped." I mutter under my breath. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. Why him? Why not one of us? What do they want him for? Who are they? Why him?! 

 

My mind is running a mile a minute. "We need to get back to the compound." I say. Cap nods and rounds everyone up. We all pile into a quinjet. The ride is silent as we all worry about Peter our almost full fledge team member. Our little webslinger. My kid. 

 

We rush into the compound and inform Bruce of what happened. I pull up the video feed of the fight. There were eight cameras along the street. Three of them caught Peter going down. 

 

Everyone gathers around the screen, and I press play. Peter swings onto the screen. He gets shot and falls. Why him?! Why is it always him that gets hurt! If I had just told him to stay back at the compound with Bruce none of this would have happened. This is all my fault. 

 

Peter lies there unconscious for a while then wakes up. Two men walk onto the screen. The audio is a little sketchy, but we can make out most of it. "..ich one d..... think we sho... take?"

 

"Whi...ver one wi.. look th.. most. pa..etic while ..e torture ..em." My heart stops. Torture? 

 

My blood runs cold as Peter yells. "Take me!" No, kid! Please, God, no! 

 

"An.. why ..ould we do tha..? Th.. o..ers are ..ore famous." 

 

I pray that Peter will just stop talking and go unconscious or take them down or something. But of course he doesn't. My heart drops as he pulls off his mask and says. "...cause I'm a kid." Damn self-sacrificing kid! He's worse than Cap. The chiseled guy smiles and presses a taser to Peter's neck. Peter collapses, and the bad guys drag him into the back of a black van and drive away. 

 

I cut the feed off, and the screen goes black. "Let's find our kid." I say, and we all get to work on trying to find Peter. 

 

It's been three days now, and there is still no sign of Peter. I am going over the security camers footage of the area for the hundredth time when Friday tells me. "A private feed has hijacked the television feed on ten major channels saying that they have a message for the world about the Avengers." 

 

I am immediately alert. "Turn it on." The feed immediately appears on my screen. The two bad guys are standing on opposite sides of a chair with what appears to be vibranium cuffs. There is someone in the chair with a bag over their head. Part of me is hoping it will be Peter, but the other part is begging for it not to be. 

 

"We have a message for the world." Chiseled guy says. "We are but a small part of Charon's master plan. The Avengers cannot stop you from being harmed. Only Charon can protect you. The Avengers can't even protect their own team members." The other man pulls the hood off of their prisoner. It's Peter. "Charon can protect all." Crap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're curious as to how I came up with the name Charon, turns out that Hydra is the name of one of Pluto's moons. Charon is another on of it's moons. Just a little trivia. Please leave a comment or kudos! They mean so much to me!


	3. Have a Break, Have a KitKat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update. I was on vacation, and then a case of writer's block hit. Ugh! Anywho, on to the story!

(Peter's POV)

 

My life is a blur of waking up, getting zapped, and occasionally water but not enough to satisfy or wet the dry spot on my tongue. My existence consists of pain and the feeling of a hard cold floor mixed with the chafing of the metal cuffs on my wrists. Wet sticky blood drips out around the cuffs on my wrists and oozes out of the bullet wound in my side which still hurts like hell. That is all I get a chance to register before the white hot, searing pain overtakes my existence once again, and I drift back into the black.

 

I come to to the sound of a metal chair schreeching against a metal floor and the feeling of being pulled across a room in a chair. Oh, so that's what's making the noise. Where am I? What day is it? 

 

I try to recall the last few days but all I can come up with is the feeling of pain and thirst. I remember sacrificing myself for the other Avengers. I must be with those guys who kidnapped me. I wonder if I'll get to be considered a full fledged part of the team if I survive this, or if I'll be considered weak for letting myself be tortured. I wouldn't blame them. Anyone who can't even get away from just some common criminals probably shouldn't be considered a part of the team. That's okay. At least they'll be safe. Besides I probably won't make it out of this alive anyway. But it would be nice to be a part of the team. I've always wanted to be a part of a team, a family. 

 

I hear a click, and then the voice that belonged to the chiseled guy starts talking. "We have a message for the world. We are but a small part of Charon's master plan. The Avengers cannot stop you from being harmed. Only Charon can protect you. The Avengers can't even protect one of their own team members." The cloth (I suppose it's a bag or sack) is yanked off my face, and I am blinded by the sudden light in my vision. "Only Charon can protect you." He finishes.

 

I feel a sharp pain on my cheek, and I fully come to my senses as my head goes flying back from the force of the slap. My cheek hurts more than it should for just a slap. He must be an inhuman. Can't I ever catch a break?! "Wakey wakey, Spider-boy. We have to have you wide awake for this so we can give the Avengers and our other viewers a good show. We wouldn't want to disappoint our veiwers." 

 

I spit a mouthful of blood and spit from where I bit my cheek when he slapped me into his face. "Go to hell." I say with as much disgust as I can muster, but my voice comes out raspy and weak from disuse. 

 

He wipes my blood and spit off his face and smiles at me with a crazed but calculating look in his eyes. "Such spirit. Such stubbornness. Such resilience. It can only last for so long. I wonder how soon you will break?" He replies.

 

"Well I hope that I don't get broken. I think it would be kind of hard to break the human body in half, but then again you never know with you inhumans. However I would very much enjoy breaking a KitKat. The perfect balance of wafer and milk chocolate. They are delicious! So if you were talking about that kind of break then I would like to break very soon." I reply back in as much of a snarky tone as possible. I hope that the grin on my face is masking the fact that my whole body is skaking. I don't want to die, but better me than one of them. I can't lose someone else again. It's better this way.

 

"Let's begin showing the world just how weak and helpless the Avengers are. Shall we?" Bald guy says. 

 

"Yes, I am eager to see how soon he breaks." Chiseled guy (I'm going to name him Ryan. He looks like a Ryan, and I want to stop thinking of him as chiseled guy.) says. "Tell me, Spiderman. What's Tony Stark's favorite color?" 

 

I don't answer and receive a hard punch to the stomach. I muffle a scream as his second punch lands on my bullet wound. I try to think of all the good times I've had with the Avengers and Ned to get away from the pain, but each punch brings me back to the painful present. This is going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, now I really want a KitKat! Please leave a comment or kudos! They make my day, and make me write faster. :D


	4. Be Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for such a late update, but while I was away I had some evil ideas of how to hurt our Peter. Anywho, on to the story!

(Peter's POV)

 

"What is Tony Stark's favorite color?!" Ryan yells. After several more hours of relentless punching and kicking with no escape I finally passed out. Then I woke up strapped to this table. I'm scared because as Ryan keeps shouting and asking me questions Bill (that's what I named the guy who is starting to go bald) is carrying in several buckets filled with water and a towel. Actually I was wrong. I'm not scared. I'm terrified. 

 

I look around to distract myself becasue I'm certainly not answering Ryan's questions. I see a tripod in the corner supposedly live streaming everything. I have to be strong. I have to be strong for Mr. Stark. I can't let him see how terrified I am. I have to be strong to prove that these psychopaths are wrong otherwise they win, and I can't let that happen. I suck in another shaky breath and try to stop my body from shaking. I have to be strong. I have to be strong. I have to be strong! I repeat over and over in my head. I have to be strong to survive. 

 

Bill finishes bringing in the water. There are around five giant buckets of it. I swallow hard as I try to push my nerves down and still my shaking body. "Is there any chance I could have that KitKat now?" I ask hoping that my voice and facial expressions don't betray me and reveal my true thoughts. 

 

Ryan smiles maniacally at me which sends shivers down my already shaking body. "What.......Is......Tony.......Stark's.......Favorite........Color?"He enunciates each word his face getting closer to mine as he says each one. I clench my jaw shut to prevent my teeth from clacking together. 

 

"Go to hell." I tell him which earns me a punch to my side which hits my bullet wound full on. I let out a muffled scream as pain tears through my side bringing tears to my eyes. 

 

"Well since you aren't cooperating we'll just get right to it." He smiles at me sadistically. He nods to Bill as he grabs the towel out of Bill's hands and places it over my face. I try to shake it off and knock it part way off, but Ryan simply grabs the flipped over part of the towel and places it back over my face. I thrash my head around trying go get the towel off, but Ryan is holding it down on both sides of my head. I can't get it off! I am starting to panic. I can't get it off! I srart to try and break out of my restraints. I thrash around frantically just trying to get loose. 

 

"I'll give you one last chance. What is Tony Stark's favorite color? Hmmm?" I don't grant him a response and continue to try to break out of my restraints. The next thing I know the towel is wet, and I am drowning. I can't breathe! I try to hold my breath, but my body is demanding that I inhale. I try to resist the urge to suck in what my body thinks is air, but would only result in me drowning. But I can't resist it. I can't. I finally relent tobthe burning aching of my lungs and suck in, but instead of air my lungs are filled with water. The burning in my lungs is temporarily satisfied, but then the burning comes back double fold as my body tries to repel the water from my lungs. I thrash around more trying to throw the towel off, trying to get the choking water out of my lungs, trying to stop the water being poured onto the towel preventing me from expelleing the water in my lungs or being able to suck in a lungful of air, just trying to breathe. 

 

Then just as I feel that I am about to pass out from lack of oxygen. The flow of water stops, and the towel is pulled away. I start coughing. The water makes a splatting noise as it hits the floor. It might be gross if it didn't feel so good. I can breathe again. I continue hacking until all of the water is out of my lungs, and I can fully breathe again. The feel of air in my lungs instead of water feels so good. 

 

"That's better." I cough a few more times and draw in a few more heaving breaths. "Good. Now, what is Tony Stark's favorite color?" He says in a sickly sweet voice as I continue to breathe in the sweet sweet air. "No? Still don't want to share with the class?" 

 

I just glare at him as I continue to breathe and cough. Then the towel is back on my face again and I'm drowning. I spend the next several hours getting drowned, coughing, refusing to answer questions, and occasionally getting some air but never enough to meet my body's needs. Finally they move me back to the chair I was in before. They leave the room and I swear that the temperature goes down about thirty degrees. My soaked body starts to shake against the chair. I'm so cold. Thinking is becoming hard. My mind is sludge, but through the sludge something hits me that I hadn't noticed before. The restraint on my right wrist is loose. 

 

I put all of my strength which isn't very much right now into getting the cuff off, and sure enough after several minutes of struggling my hand springs out of the cuff. I work for what feels like hours on the other cuffs until finally all of my limbs are free. I shakily stand to my feet but end up leaning against the chair and the the wall steadily but slowly working my way over to a small window with iron bars over it. The sunlight of what I think is mid-morning shines through. 

 

Steadying myself against the wall I pull on the iron bars. Thankfully they were rusty so I was able to break through them with a lot of force. My body is weak from exhaustion, malnourishment, and pain. I feebly climb out of the window and burst through into the sunlight. I'm free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If only he truly were free, but then this would be a very short and boring fic. So you're welcome. I aldo have out a new one-shot called Why Don't You Just Listen to Me!. Please check it out! Please leave a comment! They make me so happy! :D


	5. He's Just a Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry guys. My grandmother died, and I just had a really hard time processing it. I'm trying to write to cope, but it was just slow going. I hope that this isn't terrible. Anywho, on to the story!

(Tony's POV)

 

My heart breaks as each punch hits Peter's already battered and bruised body. I pray for it to end end or for him to just go unconscious. The beating continues for another hour, and then he finally, mercifully goes unconcious. 

 

I lay my head down on the desk. It's been three days. Three damn days! And we haven't found anything. The freaking Avengers haven't found anything in three days while Peter has been sitting in that hellhole scared and in pain! I send a vase flying across the room and feel a small amout of satisfaction as it shatters into tiny pieces as it slams into the wall. 

 

Steve, Sam, and Clint left about forty minutes ago to go back over the area where Peter was kidnapped for about the hundredth time. Clint couldn't watch the feed because he kept on seeing his own kids in Peter's place, and it was too painful. I completely understand because it IS my kid in Peter's place. 

 

Natasha left around twenty or so minutes ago to talk to some of her more shady sources to see if they know anything about Peter's or Charon's location. I feel so helpless. I've gone over the security camera footage hundreds of times, and I haven't found a thing. Not one freaking thing! 

 

I run my hands through my hair and look up at Peter on the screen. He looks so small and childlike. He is covered in bruises and probably has several broken bones. Blood drips down his face from a nasty cut in his hairline. He's only been there three days, but he's already lost a good deal of weight. They probably haven't fed him anything, and with his advanced metabolism he can't last very long without food. 

 

I stand to my feet and begin to walk out of the room to find Bruce so we can go over the footage of the area again. I'd do anything to take Peter's place, but I can't do that so I have to find him. I will find him if it's the last thing I do. I have to.

_________________________

(Fifteen hours later, mid-morning)

 

"We'll find him." Steve says as he puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I watch the screen as Goon 1 and Goon 2 drop a sopping wet Peter back in that damn chair and fasten the restraints. This is all my fault. If I had just not let him go on that mission. 

 

This is the fourth day that he has been in that hellhole. Steve, Sam, and Clint didn't find anything at the scene of the crime, and Nat's sources didn't know anything about where Charon might be holding Peter, but they said they'd look into it. They may not be the best people in the world, but at least they know enough to know that what these people are doing to Peter is wrong. This is all my fault. 

 

"This is not your fault, Tony." Steve tells me. "He made this choice." I start to protest, but he continues. "And yes. I would do anything to save him or take his place, and I know you and everyone else here would too, but he made his choice, and you can't tell me that every one of us in his position wouldn't have made the same choice."

 

He's right, but this is still my fault. "He's just a kid." I mumble under my breathe. 

 

"Which us exactly the reason we will fight even harder to rescue him. We will find him, and he's strong. He can last until we are able to find him." Natasha says, but I don't want him to have to be strong. He's just a kid. 

 

My eyes snap up to the screen as I hear a weak cough. Peter is awake. His whole body is shaking. They must have turned down the thermostat. I sit there just staring at him for a while. Then all of a sudden he starts struggling against his restraints. Miraculously the cuff on his right wrist suddenly snaps off. He works on the other cuffs and eventually gets them off. We are all cheering him on. He is weak and keeps stumbling as he walks over to the one window in the room. He with a lot of effort breaks the metal bars off and climbs feebly through the window into the fresh air, and I pray that he will send us a signal or some clue so we can find him. Come on, Peter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! :D


	6. Not So Fast

(Peter's POV)

 

The sunlight is blinding. My eyes had gotten used to the dim, fluorescent lighting in that dark, damp hellhole, and now the unfiltered sunlight is overwhelming to my enhanced senses. 

 

I go careening into a brick wall and grunt as it jostles my battered and beaten body. The impact sends a fiery pain ripping through my body concentrating in my side where my bullet wound is. My whole body hurts, and I'm too weak to walk straight without help. I've decided that the only thing worse than pain is hunger. They haven't fed me anything since I've gotten here that I remember. Although I don't trust my memory very much at the moment so they may have, but if they did it certainly wasn't enough to keep up with my advanced metabolism. 

 

I realize I've been leaning against this wall in the same position for several minutes. I have to keep going! I have to get away from that place! I have to contact Mr. Stark so he can come rescue me! I have to get as far away from here as possible! I can't go back! I can't. 

 

I start walking, leaning against the wall for support. My eyes have gotten used enough to the sunlight that I can make most things out. I look around as I continue stumbling along the wall just searching for someone or something to contact someone to get help. 

 

All the buildings and stores are all closed, condemned, or for sale, and there's not a person in sight. I close my eyes against the pain as I continue to stumble along the wall. With each step my bullet wound oozes a little more blood, and I feel my bones grind together where they are broken. I have to find something or someone soon. I can't make it much farther. 

 

I'm probably about a mile and a half from where they were holding me when off in the distance I hear two sets of feet running quickly and a voice yelling. "He can't have made it far in his condition! You go that way! I'll go this way!" It's Ryan. 

 

I pick up my pace as I round a corner. I have to get away from him, but his footsteps are advancing on me rapidly as the other pair's gets further away. 

 

Then I see it. Across the street is a free clinic with an open sign on the door. I hurriedly stumble over to it falling twice without the support of the wall. I fall into the door, and a little bell rings as I enter the clinic. I careen into the counter and lean on it heavily for support. 

 

A tall, proffesional but kind looking young man comes out from the back and walks up to the counter. His face creases in worry as he sees my condition, but he maintains a professional demeanor. Oh, God, my abdomen hurts! 

 

"My name's Chris Fairfield. What can I do for you today?" I'm slightly surprised that he is not very surprised by my condition, but I guess in this neighborhood he's seen everything. 

 

"I... I need help. These men we-were.... They kidnapped me and t..tortured me." His face transforms into shock and worry. "I.... I need you to ca-call Mr. Stark." Something seems off about him, but I dismiss it as I hear Ryan's footsteps round the corner. I can't go back!

 

Chris walks around the counter and takes me gingerly by the shoulder and helps support me as he walks me back to one of the examination rooms. "Everything is going to be fine. I'll call him after I have you all bandaged up." He says. 

 

All of a sudden I feel a sharp pain in my neck. I look at Chris in betrayal as he drops me, and the room begins to dip and sway as I hit the floor. "All hail Charon." he says, and everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment!


	7. Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update, guys! School is just really stressful this year. Anywho, on to the story!

(Tony's POV)

 

I sit there impatiently as Friday searches all the security cameras in the contininental United States for any sign of Peter, and the other Avengers search for him in their own ways. I would be out there too, but Steve ordered me to stay here because I'm too emotionally involved and someone needs to watch the monitors of Friday's scans, the video feed, and be available if Peter were to try to signal or contact us. But it is killing me to not be out there working to find my kid with them.

 

I stare at the screen as I run a hand through my hair just hoping beyond hope that I won't ever see Peter back up on that screen. Come on Peter! You can do this! Just send me some signal. Something! Anything!

 

Thing one and Thing two (the psychopaths torturing Peter) found out that he had escaped about twenty minutes ago. I just hope Peter can send me a signal and get away before they find him, but the longer they have been gone without me getting a signal from Peter the more I am afraid that they've found him and are just taking their time dragging him back to that hellhole.

 

My worst fears are confirmed as my head snaps up to the sound of the door on the video feed. I am greeted by the sight of the goons dragging an unconscious and bloody Peter back into the room, but now he is wearing only a pair of sweat pants leaving his back vulnerable and exposed. Crap! This is all my fault.

..............................................................................................

(Peter's POV)

 

I am jerked back into consciousness by a sudden assault of ice cold water. My eyes snap open and I am greeted with the realization rhat I am back in the same dark, damp room that I escaped from, but now new iron bars are on the window. I won't be breaking out of those any tume soon. 

 

They must have beaten me up after that doctor drugged me because I have several bruises and cuts (and probably another broken bone or two) that weren't there before. I shiver as a slight breeze hits my body. I look down and realize that I am no longer wearing my tattered and torn Spider-Man suit. I am wearing only a pair of sweat pants (which definitely aren't mine) leaving my whole upper body bare and vulnerable. 

 

My arms ache more than everything else, but I don't know why. I look up and see that I am hanging from my wrists which are handcuffed to a hook hanging from the ceiling. I guess that's why. I try to put my feet down to ease the burning in my arms, but all that happens is I am yanked higher by Ryan who is raising the hook at the end of the chain closer to the ceiling so that my feet are dangling at least a few feet off the floor. 

 

I feel blood trickle down my arms as the metal of the handcuffs cuts deeper into my wrists, but I turn my attention to Bill as he begins to speak. "You should not have tried to escape, bug! No one escapes Charon unless the master wills it." He smiles sadistically as he sets down a bucket. He must have been the one who threw that freezing water on me. "After this lesson you will never try to escape again. It'll hurt too much." He picks up a rough piece of wood with jagged edges and splinters throughout and pats it against his other hand thoughtfully.

 

"Okay, go ahead." I say half-heartedly as I glare at him with as much nonchalance as possible.

 

He smirks and walks forward waving the stick around hap-hazardly. He reels back for the blow, and I brace for impact on my stomach or chest. But I am unprepared as a shooting, tearing pain rips through the sole of my right foot. I scream in pain at the surprise attack on the tender, unprotected skin on the bottom of my feet. The next blow hits the side of my left foot, and I grunt in pain as the jagged edges of the wood tear through the skin on my foot.

 

They continue at this until what I judge to be a few hours later my feet are a mangled mess of blood, torn flesh, and splinters of wood. They finish by unlocking the handcuffs on my wrists and letting my fall on my feet to the floor with a scream of pain. "You will learn to submit to Charon's will as we all must, child. Soon, very soon." Ryan says.

 

"Never." I spit out through gritted teeth. 

 

I recieve a kick to the stomach, and the last thing I hear is. "All will submit to the master Charon who's will is supreme." Then with one more kick to the stomach, I slip into the sweet bliss of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to my friend Leah who helped me work out my mess of ideas for this chalter and the next few to come! You're truly wonderful! Please leave a comment! They make my day. :D


	8. Exhaustion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a terrible person. I'm sooooo sorry for not updating sooner, and for this being such a short chapter, but I had to write something to get myself back on track, so sorry for rhe short chapter. The climax of whump and pain will be in the next chapter which I promise will be up sooner than almost two months from now like this one. Anywho, on to the story!

(Tony's POV)

 

I stare at the screen. It shows the image of Peter collapsed on the floor, conscious, but unable to move because he's in too much pain and too weak. I would do anything to take his place, anything to take away the pain. 

 

I run my hands through my hair for the umpteenth time. It's a miracle that I haven't gone completely bald. I just wish I could find something. Anything! Too help find these people. I want my kid back. No, I need my kid back, and I don't even care if he hates me for what I let happen to him. I know I hate myself for what I let happen to him. I deserve it, but I don't care what the cost or the consequences. I need my kid back!

 

Steve is the only one still out looking for him at the moment. The rest of the team is pouring over security cameras, maps, and rewatching the video feed for clues. He said he had one last lead to look into, and I hope to God that it leads to something. I can't this any longer and neither can Peter. His body is breaking, and his mind is slowly wearing down. 

 

I'm exhausted, but I refuse to sleep until Peter's back here where he belongs, safe and sound. Or at least safe. Sound may take a little longer, but he'll get there. It will take tume and a lot of help, but he'll get there. We just have to find him first. I lay my head on the table in defeat. I have to find him. I have to.

 

"Hey, Mr. Stark!" A cheery voice says out of nowhere. If I didn't know better, I'd swear it was Peter. It sounds just like him. I would give anything to hear his voice again, just one more time. "Really? No hello? No how was school? Nothing?" The voice says again in a joking manner. It sounds just like Peter. 

 

I lift my head and look at the source of the voice. I see Peter walking into the room, wearing one of his nerdy t-shirts, and slinging his backpack over the back of the chair he always sits on when we tinker together here in the lab, with that goofy grin on his face. No bruises, no blood, no screams that will haunt me for the rest of my life. It can't be real. It can't be. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." He asks jokingly.

 

"You....you're real? You're really here?" I ask in disbelief. 

 

"Where else would I be? It's Thursday. I always come over on Thursdays. Unless you don't want me here. I..... I can go if you don't want me here." He stutters dejectedly as he grabs his backpack.

 

"No!" I jump to my feet and shout. "Pl..please stay." I say hopefully. 

 

He smiles and sets his bag back down. "Why are you acting so weird?" He asks in a jovial tone. 

 

I get up and walk over to him. I still can't believe it's actually him. "I'm just..... So glad you're okay." I lean in and I hug him. He groans. And I chuckle at his mock discomfort. Then he groans again and it doesn't seem so fake. "Peter?" I ask him. He groans again and lets out a scream of pain.

 

He screams again, and I look down at him in my arms, and then he's not there. I snap my head up, suddenly feeling empty inside and all alone. I look around and see that I'm back at my desk watching Peter on the screen screaming in pain as the goons drag him out of that hellhole certainly to some other form of torture.

 

A dream. It was all a dream. I settle in to watch the screen and whatever form of pain it brings to my kid as I pray that Steve will find something. Anything! I can't take this anymore and neither can Peter. I need him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! They make me write faster, and make my day! :D


	9. Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! The first part of the climax. Has anyone ever seen or read Unbroken?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating sooner. I just wanted to make sure this chapter was perfect. Anywho, on to the story!

(Peter's POV)

 

I am yanked to my feet after receiving yet another beating. I scream in pain as my raw feet scrape against the rough concrete floor as Ryan and Bill drag me out of the room most likely to some other form of torture. 

 

They shove a bag over my head, and I clench my teeth in pain as they drag me further out of the room. They don't even tie my hands because they know I am too weak to try anything, and I'm not sure if I even have the will to try to escape anymore. 

 

The cement under my knees and shins changes to dirt. I am thrown aside on the ground, and the sack is ripped off my head. I am blinded by light, not inly coming from the sky but from the ground as well. As my eyes adjust slighlty, I see that I am lying on bare dirt with patches of grass here and there. 

 

I've only been outside for less than a minute, but I can already feel the sun burning my pale skin. Ryan starts to speak, and I look up at him wearily. I feel dizzy and everything hurts. "I'm going to make this even more simple for you. You don't even have to tell me Stark's favorite color. All that I want you to do is tell the truth. Just say 'Charon is supreme' and this will all be over." I hang my head in defeat. I can never say that. I will never say that. I just hope that Mr. Stark comes for me soon or I die quickly. I can't take this for much longer. Ryan speaks again after giving me a moment to consider. "So what will it be? The easy way or the hard way? Because either way, you will submit."

 

I glare up at him with as much hatred as I can muster and manage to slurr out "Go to hell!" My voice is hoarse from screaming and I'm pretty sure my jaw is broken from one of the hits I took so what I said is barely understandable, but Ryan gets the message. 

 

"The hard way it is then, Bug." I hang my head in exhaustion as Ryan yells to Bill "Bring them in!" And Ryan smiles a sadistic smile. 

 

Bill brings in eleven people tied together in a line with sacks over their heads. My breath catches in my throat, and Ryan smiles as Bill leads them into the fenced in area in which Ryan is standing and I am lying. I don't what they expect me to do, but I can't let innocent people die. But of course they know that. That is why they must have brought them here. 

 

Bill makes them all kneel down, and he ties their ropes the ground so that they are all still connected to each other, but they are also tied to the ground in a kneeling position. Bill, holding a gun, yanks the hoods off their heads one by one. 

 

The first is an older Jewish man probably in his eighties with a defiant look on his eyes. He is not scared for his own safety but only for the safety of the other hostages. 

 

The next three are all middle aged men and women with fear in their eyes. The fifth is a little girl with dark skin and dark brown eyes. She shakes in fear, and I know that I can't let anything happen to this little girl. No matter what. The next five include various men and women ranging in age from mid twenties to late fifties, including one who looks like the little girl's mom. 

 

The last hood is pulled off to reveal a sobbing pregnant woman who is barely holding it together. I can't let anything happen to these people. I can't. 

Ryan chuckles as he prods the pregnant woman with his gun. Bill brings out a large beam which judging by its size must weigh at least a ton. "Pick it up." Ryan commands me. I look at him in confusion. "Pick it up and hold it above your head for as long as we tell you to or they all die." He says gesturing to the other hostages. "Or you can just say the words." I hang my head in defeat. Crap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! They make my day! :D


	10. Last Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooohoooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I finally got it written! I have been planning this chapter since before I ever even started writing this fic. Thank you so much, Leah, for helping me plan this out, and for all the great ideas you contributed. It wouldn't be the same without you!! Anywho, on to the story!

(Steve's POV) 

 

I pull up to the Baskin Robbins, put the the car in park, and head inside. I sit down on a stool at the counter like I agreed to do to meet my contact. I really hope that she knows something. Otherwise, I don't know how we'll ever find Peter. I know that him being kidnapped wasn't my fault, but I can't help still feeling guilty. Thinking maybe if I had fought harder I would have been able to protect him, but blaming myself isn't going to help Peter so I push those thoughts aside as I wait for my contact.

 

As I wait, I order ice cream so as not to look suspicious. While the server is scooping the ice cream for my root beer float, he babbles on about how "Baskin Robbins always knows. Baskin Robbins always finds out," and how he knew a guy who was fired because he was an ex-convict.

 

I am rescued from the man's incessant rambling when my contact comes in and sits down on the stool next to me. She flips her formerly blonde now dark brown hair over her shoulder and orders a double chocolate fudge sundae. We make eye contact, and I initiate the conversation. "We're you able to find out anything about the group I asked you to get information on, Sharon?" 

 

She nods grimly. She is aware of what is happening to Peter, and she agreed to try to get information about Charon. "From what I've gathered Charon's infrastructure is extremely similar to that of Hydra's as is their purpose. They want to either control or kill all beings with superhuman abilities and take over all the governments in the world, and are deeply rooted in some of them, but not as well as Hydra was. They have several bases in the US. The closest, and most likely to be holding Peter is in Maryland. I've put all the information on this." Sharon hands me a hard drive. "Good luck." She gives me a grim smile plants a kiss on my lips and walks out with her sundae. 

 

She gave me this at great risk to her personal safety. I just hope I can use it before it's too late. I call Tony and I tell him what I found out. He say just four words. "Let's go get Peter." And I smile for the first time in a long time.

...........................................................................................................  
(Peter's POV)

 

"Pick it up!" Ryan yells at me. I don't even know if I can stand, much less hold a beam over my head for an undetermined amount of time, but I have to try. I can't let all these people die because of me.

 

I push myself onto my hands and knees. I am shaking from the pain and the effort. My whole body hurts, and when I put weight on my feet, I scream and fall back onto my hands and knees as white hot pain races through my body. Bill gets frustrated at my struggling and shoots one of the hostages, a lady in her early twenties with an engagement ring on, in the back of the head. She collapses forward, lying facedown on the ground, blood pooling around her head as she stares at me with lifeless eyes. I gag. 

 

That woman just died because of me. Guilt clenches at my heart. Bill points his gun at the head of a man in his early to mid forties and says. "Get up or I kill him too." I can't let anyone else die because of me. I don't even know how I'm going to live, if I get through this, with one life on my conscience. 

 

I struggle to my feet and grit my teeth at the pain. The ground is tearing at my already raw feet and putting any weight on them was already excruciating. My whole body is begging for relief, but I can't let them kill any more people. 

 

I hesitantly pick up the beam. I was wrong. It must weigh at least two tons. "Above your head." Ryan commands as casually as if he was ordering a burger at Burger King. I lift it above my head, and he motions for me to straighten my arms. I straighten them. My body trembles even harder at the effort. "Let's make it even a bit more fun. Every time you bend your arms, I shoot a hostage. But you can stop all this by just telling the truth and saying 'Charon is supreme'." Ryan smiles as he finishes speaking. I don't respond and grit my teeth. I can't let this beam drop. I can't.

 

I've been standing like this for twenty minutes. My arms are shaking uncontrollably, and my legs feel like Jell-O, and everything hurts. My gunshot wound is oozing blood again.  
Suddenly Bill says. "Which one?" I look at him in confusion.  
"Your arms bent. Which one should I kill?" 

 

I recoil in horror, and extend my arms again. "Please....please don't." I beg. Tears stream down my face. I can't let any more people die because of me. 

 

"Choose! Or I'll kill all of them." He yells.

 

"I choose myself!" He smiles sadistically.

 

"It doesn't work that way." He says with a chuckle. "Choose!" I shake my head. "Five! Four!" I can't let them die. "Three!" I look at the older Jewish man. A look of acceptance and pleading in his eyes. He is begging me to kill him. "Two!"

 

"Him!" I yell. "Kill him" my voice breaks as I gesture towards the old man. Tears stream down my face uncontrollably. I can't watch. I turn my head away and hear the sound of a gunshot. I hear a thud and look back at the man collapsed in a heap on the ground. 

 

The little girl breaks down in hysterical sobs. I don't know how I'm ever going to be able to live with this. Maybe death would be better. 

 

My arms continue to shake uncontrollably for what I estimate to be the next three hours, but I never bend them. I don't know how much longer I can hold this beam before my whole body gives out. My arms feel almost numb, but they still hurt like hell. 

 

Ryan, seeming irritated with how long this is taking, says, "That's it! You say 'Charon is supreme' in the next sixty seconds or they all die." He points his gun at the pregnant woman and Bill points his at a man in his fifties. Ryan begins his countdown.

 

I knew this was coming. I was just hoping that Mr. Stark would rescue me first, but I guess that was a fool's hope. Even if he could come get me I'm not sure anymore if he would even want to. I can't let them die. Better me than them. Besides, I have nothing to live for. No one wants or loves me. I won't even be missed. This is for the best. "Eight!" Ryan yells.

 

"Charon is supreme!" I say loudly so that they will hear me. 

 

They've won. Ryan and Bill both smile. Bill says. "You may put down the beam, bug." I drop the beam and instantly my legs cave underneath me. My arms are on fire and yet numb at the same time. 

 

I look lazily over at Bill Ryan and the hostages just in time to see them start shooting them. "No!!!!!" I scream as two more collapse; suddenly the fence is torn down and everything is thrown into chaos. Red, gold, blue, white, and black figures rush in as Bill and Ryan continue to shoot the hostages. The figures engage them, but throughout the struggle they continue to shoot the hostages. Bill fires his gun at me just before a black clad figure tackles him. There is no time for me to move, and I'm not sure that even if there was time I would want to move. I'm just tired of fighting. Fire rips through the left side my my chest. My vision becomes spotted with black as I fight to stay conscious. 

 

Amidst the confusion I see one of Charon's goons who rushed out to join the fight level his gun at the little dark skinned girl. I can't let her die! There is no time. I throw myself over the little girl with a cry of pain and effort. Pain explodes over the lower left side of my back. I scream in pain, and everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment!!!!!!! They make my day! :D


	11. Almost Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry!!!! So without further ado. Anywho, on to the story!

(Tony's POV)

 

I blast through the fence and am greeted by the sight of Peter, my kid, across from several people who appear to be hostages, arms shaking, tears streaming down his face, holding a beam that must weigh at least three tons and yelling, "Charon is supreme!" In a voice hoarse from screaming. 

 

This isn't right. He's giving up just as we are here to save him. This can't be happening. There has to be a reason. Then realization dawns as one of the bastards who was torturing Peter shoots one of the hostages and Peter screams "No!" As he drops the beam.

 

I blast the man who shot the hostage as dozens of black clad goons come out of a gate in the fence and engage me and the other Avengers in combat.

I push through the throng of goons trying to reach my kid, I have to protect him. I have to save him! He can't give up! Not now, not when I'm so close to getting him back! 

 

I am just about to reach him, when I see the bullet enter his body. His body is thrown back as a grunt of pain escapes him from the pain of the bullet hitting him in the left side of his chest. I lunge forward to try to catch him as he falls but am hit by a giant blast that throws me off my course. Peter falls to the ground as I crash into the dirt. 

 

Friday is flashing warning signs all across my field of vision, but I turn them all off as I get back up on my feet, determined to reach my kid and get him to safety. I look around for Peter and see that he has thrown himself on top of one of the hostages, effectively creating a human shield over the little girl as he is hit by yet another bullet. 

 

His body goes limp. He can't do this! I've gotten so close to getting him back. For real this time. I can't lose him now! I don't know what I would do without him. I throw myself over his body as more bullets fly towards him.

______________________________________________________________

 

I lie there crouched over Peter's body for what feels like hours just praying for him to fight looking for an opportunity to get him out of here without him or the little girl under him getting shot again, but the opportunity never comes. He has to make it through this. He has to. 

 

"Tony?" I hear Cap's voice and realize that the sound of guns firing has stopped. I tentatively remove myself from Peter. I don't ever want to let go of him again, but I know we have to get him medical treatment NOW. "The quinjet is only ten minutes away." I look up at Cap as he continues to speak as we gingerly lift Peter off of the sobbing girl who can't be older than 10. "He'll make it, Tony. He's a strong kid. He's not going to give up now." I look back down at Peter and pray that he is right. Peter is strong, but spending that long being tortured can break even the strongest. No. I can't think that way. I push the thought out of my mind as I turn my attention to the girl as Steve applies pressure to Peter's wounds. Peter would hate himself if I let anything bad happen to this girl. .

She shakes as I help her to her feet. I kneel down in front of her as my helmet recedes back into my suit. She wipes at her tear stained face as she nervously looks up at me. "We're here to get you and everyone else out of here. Okay, Sweetie?"

She nods her head, and I continue to question her, only half watching her as I look over at Steve propping Peter's head up on his lap. I focus my attention back on the little girl. "Are you hurt?" I ask her, scanning her body.

She shakes her head, her eyes darting over to Peter's limp form as well. "What's your name, Sweetie?" I ask.

"Elliana" She says quietly. "Is Spiderman okay?" She asks, her whole body trembling.

I smile at her grimly. "He's strong, he'll be okay." I say, hoping, NO praying, that I am not lying to Elliana. She sniffs and nods, feeling reassured by my words.

The medics rush into the enclosure, and I send Elliana off with a nice, brown haired EMT to get her checked out. With Elliana in good hands, I rush over to Peter. Medics are swarming around him shouting things about hemorrhaging, and quinjets. 

 

I step out of my suit and leave it on sentry mode as I fall to my knees next to Peter, earning me several dirty looks from the medics. I hold Peter's hand as they slide him onto a gurney. I run alongside the medics and Peter as they rush him into a quinjet. 

 

They insert an IV into his arm and (to the best of my ability to tell) begin to prepare to operate. A nurse comes over and tells me that they will begin to operate and reset the bones here on the quinjet and that if I wish to stay with Peter during the operation that I have to go wash up. 

 

I don't want to leave him, but I take my hand away from Peter's and walk over to sink. As I wash the blood, Peter's blood, from my hands I pray that Peter will make it through this. He has to. He has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment!!!! They make my day! 😁

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment or a kudo if you want me to continue this! :D


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